Leaving You Behind
by The Jack Loving Misfit
Summary: JackSpot (rating is just for the slashy-ness there is no hardcore stuff in here) Jack's leaving which prompts Spot and him to fight which ends in confessions. (Finished)
1. Jack's POV

Leaving You Behind  
  
By: Courtney M.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies, Jack, Spot etc, etc. Disney does and  
their lucky, blah, blah, blah. I am not making any money from this and  
nothing like this would actually happen, it is entirely FICTION. I know  
this. I respect this. And everyone who reads this should as well. Thank  
You.  
  
Distribution: FanFiction.net anyone who wants, ask and I'll gladly give!!!  
  
Warnings: This is a slash story (I think you all understand what that means) so if you don't like, don't read. I'm saving you the time now. . .  
thank you again.  
  
Reviews: Are greatly appreciated.  
  
Jack's POV  
  
I wasn't looking forward to this. Really, I wasn't. Sure, I've wanted to get away from New York for a long time, but I wasn't looking forward to telling everyone. Especially all my boys. That's probably why I held it off for such a long time, procrastinated telling them until I figured I could say everything I wanted to say without breaking down. I'd been through so much them, that it almost made it impossible for me to tell them. But I owed them at least that much if I was leaving them.  
  
I decided to do it at one of those Friday night get togethers Race had planned with poker and beer and the whole deal. I know, I know, good way to ruin a festive mood but if I didn't do it then, I'd never tell them. And I could just imagine the badness that would come from that scenario. So drunk, gambling Newsies was the only way to go.  
  
The "party" was one of our more popular ones, apparently Race had invited a bunch of the Brooklyn Newsies to join us (a fact he forgot to tell me until one actually showed up), and although I hadn't expected breaking the news of my leaving to their fearless leader as well, but what could I do? Kick them out? Yeah, that would go over even better then my not telling anyone I was leaving. So near the end of the night I shouted over the talking that I had an announcement. (Original huh?)  
  
"Make it short Jack, I'se beatin Skitts horribly and I'se kinda need 'da money," Race said, puffing away on one of his prized cigars. I smiled and nodded at him.  
  
"Short, okay, short. . . I gotta say I didn't expect half of New York to be 'ere when I told you guys 'dis, what can I do? For Race's sake this will be put in simple terms. I'm leaving. To Santa Fe in four days."  
  
The activity stopped all at once and suddenly silence consumed the whole house. Every eye was on me, and my Newsies had a look of complete horror and confusion etched onto their features as they gazed up at me.  
  
"Leavin. . . how long you been planning 'dis?" Blink asked from the corner of the room breaking the long uncomfortable silence. I swallowed the lump in my throat before answering him.  
  
"A little over a week and a half," I mumbled, which was followed with a few glares and so sharp intakes of breath.  
  
"And youse just now decidin to tell us?" Mush asked harshly which was different then he normally was. His tone was enough to make me feel the guilt that had been bubbling at the surface since I started planning the trip. I lowered my eyes in shame, unable to bring myself to look into the faces of the group of Newsies that had looked up to me for so long.  
  
When I did look up again I saw, not anger, but hurt and a good amount of it. I didn't figure I needed to say anything else, and I was pretty sure no one wanted to even look at my face, let alone talk to me, for the rest of the night so, slowly, I made my way out of the lodging house and left them there to think about what I had said. After the Brooklyn guys left I'd probably be lynched by cruel words and gutful glares so I took the opportunity to do to the docks and look out on the black water. And get some needed ( I would say deserved but I don't think that after what I'd done I didn't deserve anything but a few broken bones) fresh air.  
  
I didn't hear him approach until he was less then two feet away from me. Not that I knew who he was, my back was facing him and I didn't even want to find out so I continued to stare at the water and ignore the person behind me.  
  
" 'Dat was one hell of an announcement Jacky-boy," A cold voice finally said walking right up next to me.  
  
"Spot," I greeted not saying anything more. I didn't have anything too say to him, he wasn't anyone I was concerned about. So I didn't even look at him. He either didn't care or notice because he sat down beside me.  
  
"So, youse leavin. . ." He trailed off and glanced at me out of the corner of his eye.  
  
" 'Dat's what I said wasn't?" I snapped at him. I was not in the mood for Spot Conlon tonight.  
  
He had the decency to look slightly surprised at my outburst, but his expression quickly changed back to impassive. He turned back to the water and we were silent for a few more seconds.  
  
"Ya know their going to miss you," He said slowly, casually. This time it was I that looked surprised.  
  
"I suppose. They'll get over it though," I said shrugging non-commitedly. Spot took his eyes off the water to glare at me openly.  
  
"You're their leader Jack," He stated as if I didn't already know this. His superior tone was getting old since I had no patience tonight. So I returned his glare with one of my own. And stared right into his icy blue eyes.  
  
"They'll get another one," I answered him in the calmest voice I had at the moment. He narrowed his eyes at me.  
  
"They don't want another leader Jack. . . what's yer problem anyway? Why do you want to leave 'dis place so bad? Not good enough for you Cowboy?" He sneered angrily. My face contorted in confusion, I'm sure of it. What the hell was his problem anyway? Why did he care? Why was he pleading my Newsies case for them? It didn't add up to me, we were never friends so I figured he'd be happy I was long gone.  
  
"What's YER problem Spot? You got a problem with me leaving? Am I your only competition or somethin'?" I countered, mostly just to get a rise out of him, but also trying to understand what was going on inside the Brooklyn man's head.  
  
He opened his mouth to answer, but closed it just as quickly. His face flushed slightly, but his frown and glare never faltered. He just stared, hard, at me for a few more seconds before turning back to gaze out at the water. I saw his jaw clench and unclench angrily, but he said nothing. And I let the subject drop, and lost myself in my own thoughts for the time being. 


	2. Spot's POV

Spot's POV  
  
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.  
  
When he announced he was leaving, I don't think it really sunk in, for me at least, until he left the lodging house. I followed him down to the docks, mainly just to see if I really had heard him right. My own private denial that I foolishly indulged.  
  
Stupid.  
  
That's what I must be if I insist on torturing myself the way I do. Following him was bad enough, but sitting down next to him and trying to subtly hint that he shouldn't go was above any realm of dumbness I have ever heard of. And of course Jack is smart enough to pick up on them and point them out to me.  
  
"What's yer problem Spot? You got a problem with me leaving? Am I your only competition or somethin'?"  
  
I didn't answer him, but my mind though up a million and one answers I wanted to scream at him. The most insistent of which was something along the lines of, 'of course I have a problem with you leaving! I'm in love with you, you asshole!'. He and I were both quiet for a little while after that. And I wished I knew what he was thinking.  
  
While I looked at the water, I glanced at him out of the corner of my eyes a few times. I can't resist to look at him if I'm around him. Seriously. His eyes, hair, lips. . . I have the worst (or best all considering) dreams about what I could be doing to those lips. Normally when he talks I only listen to him in the back of my mind, most of my energy has to go into making sure I don't just close the distance between us and kiss him. Because that would be wrong. On top of the fact that he's straighter then an arrow.  
  
God, I sound pathetic. But I'm used to it. Around everyone else I'm Spot Conlon. Brooklyn's fearless, untouchable, cold leader. People don't mess with me, they don't talk back, they respect me. I'm practically the king of New York, as David said, the most respected newsie in New York. I can intimidate the toughest of street thugs and knife wielding criminals.  
  
But if Jack Kelly is around me? Forget it, I might as well not even have a backbone. Oh, you couldn't tell it just by watching me. I'm an expert at hiding it, but it's there, burning through the walls I've perfected over the years and built around myself. And I hate it. And I hate him.  
  
Yet I love him.  
  
"I need to get away Spot. That's why I'm leaving. I can't deal with this, I need some time. . ." He trailed off, scaring me out of my thoughts as I wasn't expecting him to talk to me civilly.  
  
He looked over at me, his chestnut eyes boring straight threw me, pleading with me to understand him. If only I could. But I can't, I'm a selfish person, I admit it. And I want Jack to stay here so I can see him. Even if he doesn't know how I feel about him (and preferably never will) I still need him nearby. And Santa Fe is just too damn much distance for me.  
  
"Yeah, sure Kelly," I mutter, waving my hand slightly as if to dismiss his statement but he wraps his own hand around my wrist and twists it so my whole body is facing his. A fierce look is in his eyes, and he's making my wrist uncomfortable in pain, but I don't mind. Really.  
  
"You may like this place Spot, but. . . you just don't get it," He sighed and let go of my wrist, almost throwing it make into my own face. His eyes have lost there angry spark, but they're still shining. The night's darkness helps too bring that shine out in his eyes, just another observation I've made about Jack over the years.  
  
". . . and I'll miss Sarah, but, I don't know." Shit, he was talking and again I hadn't heard what the hell he was saying. But I did hear the name Sarah, and that's enough for me to make a complete ass of myself.  
  
"You don't know what Jacky? It ain't like yer married to da goil. She'll get over it. Wese all losin somethin'. You leavin is going to effect a lot of people," I said with an edge to me voice. He threw me a confused look and just continued to stare until I felt my face start to heat up and I threw him a questioning glare.  
  
"Oh yeah? Like who?" He asked, his voice surprised and also curious.  
  
I jumped up from my seat next to him and gestured madly to the city which was sleeping all around us. "Everybody! Since da strike youse been more important den youse t'ink! Your boys need ya, da other newsies need ya, I'se need ya."  
  
I froze.  
  
Did I just say that out loud?  
  
I took a small look at Jack, who was now also standing, and towering over me about two feet away. If the look of confused shock was anything to go by then yes, I did actually say that I needed him. I definitely have to get out of this situation - and now.  
  
I turned to leave, run away faster then I've ever run, but I have found that I can't exactly run because Jack's holding my wrist and throwing me the weirdest look. I don't like that look.  
  
"What. . . what did you just say?" He asked looking at me as if I wasn't who he thought I was. Maybe I wasn't. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if pigs actually flew at that moment. All I saw was Jack's eyes watched me and his firm grip on my wrist. And the pit in the bottom of my stomach.  
  
"Nothing," I mumbled and tried, although not to hard, to get myself free of his grasp. So he countered by tightening his hold. Damn.  
  
Have I mentioned how stupid I am?  
  
A/N: Jack's POV will be next. And the plot thickens. I am also aware that Spot is out of character slightly *snorts* but does anyone really know what's going on inside his mind? No. So hey, hey, hey! 


	3. Jack's POV

Jack's POV  
  
First of all, I'd like to make it clear that I did not say I loved Sarah. Nor did I mention her much. All I said was that David told me once that she was pretty much head over heels for me and that I didn't feel the same way. Just that I liked her. So that was my indication that Spot hadn't really been listening to a word I had said. Although it doesn't explain what incensed him enough for him to start yelling at me.  
  
Second of all, he said that he needed me. HE, Spot Conlon, needed ME, Jack Kelly. I wasn't if I had imagined him saying that or if the words had really been spoken. That, however, was confirmed when he shot me this horrified look like he'd told one of his deepest secrets (which if it's true I'd say is) and prepared to dash off. I wasn't going to let him disappear that easily. I was confused now and I don't like being confused.  
  
He flinched when I grabbed his wrist, although I'm not sure why. I didn't grab it that hard. And he wouldn't look me in the eye, he just kept his head hung completely not facing me. In fact, his whole small body was slumped over in defeat (something I've never seen from him) and he stopped fighting my grip.  
  
"Jack, lemme go," He said quietly, so unlike the voice he uses with is boys or anyone else for that matter. I raised my eyebrow in question but backed off and let go of his wrist.  
  
"Did you say what I thought you said?" I asked again. What can I say? I'm persistent.  
  
"Depends on what you thought I said to ya's," He said in a mocking tone, his eyes still downcast but the edge creeping back into his figure. I frowned, he's hard to figure out, but this was ridiculous.  
  
"Spot," I said sighing, like I said earlier, I was not in the mood for his mind games or sarcasm. I rubbed my eyes tiredly and took a step closer to him. He backed off. And we repeated this little dance until he was pressed up against thin wall of crates and I was no more then a foot in front of him. What was his problem tonight?  
  
"Listen Spot, youse don't have to get all defensive on me alright? I know what ya said. You know what ya said. No big deal. I'se just need to leave fer a little while. I'll be back," I explained, although I wasn't sure if I'd be back or not.  
  
"And what if ya likes dat place so much youse decide to stay dare?" He questioned, lifting his eyes from the ground, but still not looking at me.  
  
"I won't."  
  
"But how do wese know fer sure?"  
  
"Trust me."  
  
Well, that wasn't the right thing to say, cause all of a sudden his eyes, that were practically spewing off fire, were on my face. Trying to stare me down or something to that effect. To really appreciate Spot's temper, you have to see it in person. You wouldn't believe such a small guy could get so mad, and actually scare you. But he's a master at both.  
  
"Trust you? Trust you Jack? I'se can't trust youse to do nuthin! Yer leavin, and youse and I both know you ain't comin back! You. . .I . . .I can't trust you Jack. I can't," He said, trailing off slightly at the end of his triad and once again he avoiding me with eyes contact.  
  
If he could get more confusing, I would be deeply surprised. At the moment I was swimming in confusion I was so confused. And that was only about what he was saying. That didn't apply to why I couldn't be less then a foot from him or the fact that he apparently couldn't look me in the eye. Or anywhere for that matter.  
  
Spot Conlon is one of those people that has everything. Everyone's entitled to be jealous of him. He's got power, respect, his pick of pretty much any girl in New York. . . the list is impossible long. So, just think of something you want and chances are he's got it. I would say it wasn't fair, but I think it might be, he's gone through a lot in his short life. Probably more then me, and he's fought to get where he is today. I respect it. But sometimes Spot can really get on the bad side of my nerves.  
  
This was one of those times.  
  
"Fine, don't trust me. Hate me. Wish da wost death on me youse can t'ink of. I don't care. I'll be gone. An' da only people I'm gonna miss is me boys. So do what'cha want Spot. It doesn't make no difference to me," I said calmly waving my had dismissively in front of his face.  
  
His dark eyes darkened still, as he glared at me. That triggered something because the next thing I know he's up in my face. I tower over him as far as height goes, but he didn't seem to care much. He just stood there searching me with those eyes. A look of defiance on his face. It's hard for Spot to look intimidating. He can act it, or sound it, but look it? He's too small and skinny to really look intimidating. He normally just kinda looks like this cute angry puppy.  
  
Cute? Where the hell did that come from?  
  
I looked back down at him. I suppose if I was like that, I'd consider Spot cute. He's got pretty eyes, and a nice face. Not that I've noticed or anything, because I'm not gay, and, well, I'm not too convincing am I?  
  
He's yelling at me, and still hasn't answered my previous question. Although, I know what he said I want to know why he said it. As far as I knew Spot didn't need anybody but himself, and sometimes I don't think he needs even that. So why does he care so much about me leaving? Why does he care about me at all? I can't help it, my mind wonders and needs answers all the time.  
  
"Why do you need me Spot?"  
  
That shut him up. He went from red-hopping mad to deathly silent. And the whole eye contact has stopped again. I hate that. I took one of my hands, placed it under his chin and made him lift his eyes so he was staring straight into mine. They were pleading with me not to make him say anything. Like if he told me his whole world would fall down around him. (Which I greatly doubt) And are those. . . naw, Spot is physically unable to cry.  
  
"Don't make me say Jack, please," He begged closing his eyes so I can't force him to look at me anymore. I narrowed my eyes at him even though he couldn't see me. I needed to get his attention somehow. Some way. My mind went through a list of things I could do to get him to stop fighting me and freeze up, or at least look at me. My mind betrayed me and settled on the one thing that would get his attention, and probably get me a black eye. It was also quite possibly the dumbest idea I've ever had in my entire life. (And that's saying a lot).  
  
And so that's why I kissed him.  
  
A/N: Ah ha! Spot's POV is coming next, so stay tuned. Special thanks to the people who took the time to review! I love you! (lol) Reviews are golden and beloved! Sorry. . . sugar high. . . woo hoo! 


	4. Spot's POV

Spot's POV  
  
I understand that he wanted to know why exactly I needed him, but did he really have to touch me? Or make me look at him? I mean, I have good self control, have for years, but my self control was pretty much fading fast that that point, so I closed my eyes to make it easier on myself. And concentrated on not letting my body show him any signs of my love for him. I'm not sure how well it worked. I can't remember. Because all of a sudden something warm and soft was pressed against my lips.  
  
Slowly I opened my eyes and saw Jack's mouth attached to mine, his own eyes closed tightly. Upon seeing this I am happy to say that I neither fainted or died. Although I was sure at that point that I was most definitely in some earth version of heaven.  
  
I felt like I was in some sort of a dream so, to test my theory I brought my hands up to head and ran them through his hair. (which was a silky as I believed it would be) and tentatively kissed him back. Running my tongue along his bottom lip, not really seeking entrance, just kinda testing the waters I suppose. But, to my surprise, Jack opened his mouth for me. I wasn't looking for it, but why pass up an opportunity like that?  
  
I'm not sure exactly how long the kiss lasted, I really didn't have coherent thoughts during the whole thing. After all, it was what I had wanted for, well, too long so I didn't think, I reacted. Not thinking about a reason as to why he may have kissed me or any problems that might come through afterwards. I didn't care at the time.  
  
He broke the kiss obviously, letting his hands drop from my back and he took a giant step backwards from me, as if what had just happened scared him. Or repulsed him. Or both. I think it hit me then that Jack had done this for a reason other then pleasure or spontaneous-ness and that he had expected me to actually kiss him back, especially so enthusiastically. Of course knowing this, I pretended along and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand but didn't dare look up at him. I was panting for breath and I'm quite certain that my desire wouldn't be hid behind my eyes this time.  
  
Like I said, stupid.  
  
"Spot. . .I. . . what the hell was that?" He asked me from what I think he considered a safe distance.  
  
"Shouldn't you know Jack-boy? Yer da one who started it," Oh god, denial is my worst enemy, why play on it anymore then I have too?  
  
"But, I was only trying to get your attention 'cause ya wouldn't look at me and all. . ." He trailed off and ran a hand through his hair.  
  
Trying to get my attention? That's why he had kissed me? Made me feel exactly what I always wanted too? Make me feel like I'm set on fire? For my attention? Jesus. Well, I applaud you Jack, because you got my attention alright.  
  
"Well, youse got me attention now," I said, still panting internally.  
  
"I noticed."  
  
I snapped my head in his direction, but not quite meeting his eyes. "What's dat suppose to mean?"  
  
He shrugged and took a couple steps closer to me. Why me? Why him? Why anything? Can't he see I'm still recovering from the last time he was close to me? Maybe he's almost as stupid as me.  
  
"What I mean is dat youse seemed awful. . . okay wit me kissin you. You know, like youse didn't mind it. Dat's all," He said in a nonchalant voice.  
  
Well, no shit. I'm only in love with you.  
  
Suddenly he took a couple steps away from me again, his eyes had widened a few sizes and he actually had his mouth hanging open in surprise. I just stared at him. He paled so much I looked behind me to make sure no one was around, or no ghosts were floating by me. But he was staring directly at me with this horror filled look. What could I have possibly have done now? I hadn't done or said anything.  
  
"Jack?" I asked slowly, trying to prompt him into telling me what made his so scared of me all of a sudden. Normally I like it when people look at me with fear in their eyes. But not Jack. Never Jack.  
  
"You, what did you just say?" His voice was a little higher then normal from the shock on his face had, I guess, sank into his vocal cords.  
  
"Jack," I repeated not understanding why that would upset him so much.  
  
"No, no, no. What did you say before that?" He asked hurriedly giving me the most intense stare I've ever seen from anyone ever, period.  
  
I thought back over my words. I said that he had my attention, and then he said he noticed. So I asked what he meant when he said that, and he said that I seemed to like kissing him a little too much or something like that. Then he backed away and threw me the look that's still masking his features, searching my eyes and face. I hadn't said anything, maybe he just thought I did, or saw something in my face that made him believe something. Either way it didn't matter because I hadn't SAID anything to him. But I obviously did something because he looked like seriously panicked.  
  
"Um, Jack, I don't exactly remember what I'se said to ya," I replied slowly, not quite understanding the situation that was unfolding around me.  
  
He sighed, his eyes fluttering closed and took a deep breath. But he didn't answer me, or tell me what I had said to make him so shocked or upset or whatever he was feeling, I couldn't be too sure of anything anymore though. I was too confused.  
  
"Just tell me what I said to ya Jack. Honestly, I don't know," I tried again, pleading with him. I needed to know. He opened his eyes again and looked straight into my eyes. Holding his gaze and not breaking it. He looked like he was searching for the truth but I wasn't going to give it to him.  
  
"Believe me when I say you wouldn't want to remember what you said to me," He said finally, slumping his shoulders slightly.  
  
I just watched him as the silence and the cold night air surrounded us.  
  
And I waited.  
  
A/N: WOO HOO!!! ANOTHER PART DONE!!!! Sorry, I'm way tired and tired equals hyper for me. Woo Hoo, lol. Anyways, Thank you to the following people:  
  
SpotLover421: Thank you for the review, Jack/Spot is my fav too, though I'm not sure why. All I know is they would be good together!  
  
Ravan46: Breathe!!!!! It's going to be okay! LOL. Anyway, thanks for the sparkling review I appreciate the encouragement. (woo, big word for me)  
  
DucanAndTheSpork: If people consistently give me reviews like yours I'm going to get too big a head for my computer room doorway! But thank you! *bows to the applause* Oh, and I guess I'll see you next fall huh? Watch for the stairs! (ha! Talk about corny!)  
  
TheCrazyUnknown: Open doors? I'm bad but not that bad. . . j/k. I once walked into a phone pole because I was wearing sunglasses at night. And a bunch of little kids laughed at me! * depressing * Anyways, thank for the review! I am eternally grateful! 


	5. Jack's POV

Jack's POV  
  
Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. Maybe I should think about going to get my ears checked out or something because there is no way Spot said what I'm quite positive he said. Maybe I imagined it, I mean, he didn't even remember he said it and he's giving me the weirdest look. But, on the hand, he said it with such conviction, like I was dumb for not noticing it or. . . whatever. Oh lord, I'm so screwed.  
  
He just stood there watching me with that lost expression on his face, his head tilted slightly to the left. As if he's trying to figure ME out. Hell, I think I'm the one that should searching me. But I can't really bring myself to do that.  
  
"Jack, would ya jist tell me already?" He sighed. I looked over at him and reciprocated his sigh.  
  
"Well, I'se was saying how youse seemed a little too okay wit me kissin you and youse said that you were in love wit me," I stumbled over my own words, now it was me not meeting his eyes. When he remained silent, I risked a glance at him.  
  
He was staring open mouthed, and wide eyed at me in shock. And I got the distinct feeling that he not only hadn't meant to say that, but didn't even know he did. Like he was thinking out loud or something. If I wasn't so confused and lost by the situation unfolding around us I probably would've felt sorry for him.  
  
"I. . .I'se said all dat? Out loud?" He said in a soft child-like voice that was shaking. It was the kind of voice I never expected to hear from him, he was always the strongest of our kind and hearing him sound so scared unnerved me some. If he could be like that how did that go for the rest of us?  
  
"Yeah."  
  
I saw him visibly shutter and close his eyes trying to steady himself. Another thing I noticed was he hadn't denied it yet, which I had expected he would do instantly. I mean, it couldn't possibly be true could it? Spot Conlon in love with me? It didn't make sense.  
  
But if I think back to that kiss from just a few minutes ago, I guess I should've realized it. There was definitely emotion coming from his part. I had just be shocked, I hadn't expected him to kiss me back, or try to explore anymore. Which, if I think back also made me shudder. I mean I was the one that let him wasn't I?  
  
And so here we are. He's scared of what I must think of him and I'm trying to understand why the thought of him being in love me doesn't totally disgust me.  
  
I REALLY hate being confused.  
  
"Listen, Spot, it's not -  
  
"No. Don't say a thing. Youse don't need to tell me how disgustin it is, or anyt'ing like dat. It was a mistake, I. . . I never meant to say it," He said slowly, his voice thick with emotions I didn't even know existed. He sounded guilty and defeated. I didn't say anything at first. What could I say?  
  
"Just tell me if it's true."  
  
He sighed and looked up at the sky which was pitch black with a few scattered stars among the smog and smoke. Just another reason I want to go to Santa Fe, fresh air. He relocated his eyes on mine and I got the weird feeling that I was being devoured by his eyes.  
  
"What do ya t'ink?" He asked finally, continuing to stare at me. I narrowed my eyes slightly and licked my lips before I could answer him, but as I did so I saw his already dark eyes darken still into something that looked exactly like desire. It made me blink but gave me the answer.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Den youse be right."  
  
"Spot, I'm not disgusted by you. If dat's what youse scared about."  
  
He lifted his eyes from my lips to my eyes and tried to staring right through me to decide if I was serious or not. He even took a step closer as if to see better. He opened his mouth to speak but shut it quickly and lowered his eyes and nodded.  
  
"I'm sorry," He muttered and shifted on his feel uncomfortably.  
  
"What for?"  
  
"Fer puttin you in da position yer in. Youse don't need to lie to me. If ya 'ate me I'll make it. I'se a big boy Jack," He said sarcastically. Though it was said without much venom.  
  
"I'se ain't lyin Spot. I'se don't got no problem wit it. Really," I answered and actually realized it was true. I was starting to wonder about myself. First he says he needs me, and then I kiss him and then he says he loves me. What possible could happen next?  
  
"Sure, sure Jack. Someday youse wake up."  
  
I frowned at his statement but didn't comment. I chose instead to think about my own feelings at the moment. I wasn't lying when I said I didn't have a problem with any of it, I even started wondering how long it had been going on? During the strike? After? Before? I wasn't looking for the signs so I never saw them, but I guess if I think hard enough. . .  
  
Not that it mattered. I mean, I'm not that way. But then again, if I wasn't, even a little bit, why did the thought of him loving me actually be okay with me? Or why was the only way I could think of to get his attention was too kiss him? And when I did why didn't I pull back immediately after he started to kiss me back and the kiss actually became an intimate thing? Was I just figuring into this too much? Or did his little mistaken and mis- said confession actually trigger something in my brain as well?  
  
"Jack, are youse okay?" His voice broke me free from my thoughts and I looked down at the small boy standing in front of me and slightly concerned look on his face.  
  
I took in his features for the first time since I'd met him years ago on the streets. I guess I could see what all the girls saw in him. Like I said earlier, he does have pretty eyes, and surprisingly full lips for a guy. And although his smirk and smile just ooze cockiness it kind of makes him even more attractive. And his skin, although pale, is very smooth. I felt that when I kissed him. So, yes, I could see the appeal. All those things more then made up for his lack of height and muscle.  
  
"Jack, yer uh, yer lookin at me strange," Spot said, once again snapping me out of my strange thoughts. God, what is wrong with me today? Announcing my Santa Fe and now all this with Spot? I think I may have really lost it. Or maybe it's just TOO much fresh air.  
  
"Sorry," I mumble and take a small step away from him, I'm not sure why, but I get this feeling that I probably shouldn't be close to him or I might do something I'd regret.  
  
He raised an eyebrow but stayed silent.  
  
"So what were ya thinkin about?" He asked me.  
  
"Kissing you."  
  
Okay. Remember when I said thinking that kissing him to get his attention was the dumbest idea I'd ever had? Well, I think saying that, without thinking at all, was dumber still. Because now he's looking at me like I'm crazy. Which, I may very well be.  
  
"Um, ah. . ." He can't even form any words to counter my little confession. Damn. Ever feel like you're way to exposed and just need to get the hell away from the situation you but yourself into? If you have, then you know exactly how I felt at that moment.  
  
"Forget it."  
  
"But, Jack, are you serious?" He's looking at me with this hopeful look on his face. Yeah, definitely a puppy.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
We stood there for a while. He had a deep look on his face like he was wondering what he should do or say next. And me? I was trying to get my legs to actually move so I could get the hell away. Either way, neither of us did anything. Just kinda stood there and stared at each other.  
  
And we waited.  
  
A/N: Alrighty then. . . I'm feeling kind of lazy right now, so I'll just list my reviewers. Thanks for the great reviews! You guys are wonderful! * hands each reviewer a huge candy bar of their choice *. Until next time. . .  
  
Special Thanks to the following:  
  
TheCrazyUnknown  
  
Raven46  
  
Spotlover421  
  
Fox 


	6. Spot's POV

Spot's POV  
  
This is a weird change of events. Definitely not something I was expecting him to say to me. Although this whole evening is pretty much one for the record books. All the stuff that's been said and done is going to take me a long time to forget even after he's long gone.  
  
I'm not even sure if he really means what he just told me. He could just feel sorry for me and be trying to make me feel better and such. And that would probably make me feel even worse. Not that I'd let him see that. But he could be serious too, he had been looking at me a little weird a few moments ago, kind of like I was something he wanted.  
  
"What about Sarah?"  
  
"What about 'er?"  
  
A-ha. So he didn't like that Jacobs girl all that much. I used to think he just paid her attention because he was such good friends with the 'mouth', but I could never really tell for sure. Especially after their kiss. . .  
  
"Jack are youse screwing wit me? I mean, is dis some sort of guilt t'ing?" I have to be sure, I need to know. I've loved him for far to long to have him joke around with my mind and feelings.  
  
He sighed and lifted his eyes from his feet and placed them on my face. He licked his lips again ( I really wish he would stop doing that) and shifted his weight to his other leg.  
  
"No, I'se ain't screwing wit 'cha. I'se was jist t'inking 'bout dis whole night. Me announcin da whole Santa Fe thing, den all dis. . ." He trailed off motioning to the both of us before continuing. "An' I guess I'se jist confused. Or tired. Or both." He let out a shaky breath.  
  
He's confused? I don't think so. His confusion is nothing compared to mine. And he just said that he wasn't screwing with me but then says that's everything that's happened has been because he was tired and confused. Yes, that is a real ego booster. Although most would joke that I don't need an ego boost.  
  
"So all dis stuff dat's happened is because of confusion?" I asked cautiously. I'm not sure how I wanted him to answer. I wasn't sure of all whole lot at that point though.  
  
"Yes. . . No. . . I don't know. Maybe. It's jist dis whole night 'as backfired on me. Me newsies are mad at me. . ."  
  
Gee, can you really blame them?  
  
". . . An' den youse come 'ere to talk and you end up tellin me dat youse are actually in love wit me. . ."  
  
Ha. You think I want to be in love with you? Yeah right, it would be much easier on me if I wasn't. Me being in love with you is all your fault. Really.  
  
". . . An' jist now I was lookin at 'cha and I'se was t'inking dat I'se could understand what all da goils find attractive about 'cha. Did 'cha know dat you 'ave pretty eyes?"  
  
Okay, that got my attention. Pretty eyes? He thinks. . . and he saw what people thought was attractive about me? Maybe he really is confused, more so then I think. And, oh god, he's coming closer again. Seriously, how much torture does god think I handle in one night? And only four days before he's leaving. Damn.  
  
I chuckled bitterly. "Youse really are tired Jack. An' very confused."  
  
He shook his head and took another step closer to me. I held my breath only to let it come out a couple seconds later in a thin warily rasp. There was practically no distance between our bodies and if I wanted to actually look him in the face I'd have to crank my neck skyward. He's a lot taller then me. But I didn't want to look him in the face, afraid of what I might see there. So I just kept me eyes at chest level. (Not that that helped a whole lot)  
  
"No, no, I'se serious Spot. Honest. They really are pretty, blue an' clear. 'Dare da foist t'ing I notice bout 'cha because yer skin is so pale dat da blue stands out. Not dat yer skin's color is a bad thing. . ." His voice got considerable softer as he spoke.  
  
He lifted one of his hands to my cheek and caressed it gently. It made me freeze up to have him touch me like that. But he kept his hand there, blissfully unaware, or ignoring, my erratic breathing.  
  
"Soft. . . like yer hair," He continued his assault on my hyper aware nerves and ran his hand through my hair then traced them back to face, until the hand was down near my chin.  
  
I didn't saw anything. I just squeezed my eyes shut and prayed that it would end soon, or go on forever. Gently he raised my head, but said nothing about my closed eyes. He did, however, relocate his hand so that most of his fingers were on the lower part of my jaw bone and he let his thumb drift slowly, too, too slowly, over my bottom lip.  
  
"Soft," He whispered again, then in a voice I didn't recognize from him. This new tone made me open my eyes and open them wide when I saw just how close his face was to mine and the look that was swimming on the surface of his eyes.  
  
I froze again, but Jack didn't. He lowered his head even closer until I could feel his hot breath on my face, then his lips touched mine again. Only this time it was much more tender and gentle. He wrapped the hand still on my face through my hair keeping me where I was, while his over arm snaked around my waist pulling me against his solid body.  
  
Like the first time I didn't think, I just responded, a bit faster this time because I wasn't quite as shocked. And this time when we parted he didn't move or look away in disgust. Instead he smiled. A bright Jack Kelly smile that I loved seeing.  
  
Both my hands were gripping his arms for dear life, I had felt my knees give out soon after the kiss began and it wouldn't have been pretty if I had suddenly fell down, he probably would've fell on me or something. . . well, maybe that wouldn't have been such a bad idea after all.  
  
"You okay Spot? You look a little breathless," Jack smirked talking in a low voice as he held me. He too was panting some and his cheeks were flushed as well. Plus too top it off his lips were swollen slightly from my hungry kisses.  
  
"Youse aren't one ta tawk 'dare Cowboy," I answered using his famous nickname. He laughed at this, a clear genuine laugh and he let me go, so we were no longer touching. I'm pretty sure I whimpered at the sudden lack of body heat, but other than that I didn't protest.  
  
Jack looked at me, cocking his head to the side as if he was trying to study me or admire his handiwork or something. But he smiled again so I decided to let him do whatever he felt like. I'm a goner when his smile shines through.  
  
"Dis has been one interestin day," He concluded finally. I just nodded and idly fingered my lips, they hurt some. Jack batted my hand away and shook his head.  
  
"Don' do dat. 'Day look good swollen an' all," He said waving his hand slightly in explanation. This time I was the one that smiled and let me hand drop from my face.  
  
"Alright Jacky-boy, whatever ya say. I'se jist got one question," I said. He raised his eyebrows as if to inquire what about or encourage me to ask the question. I took a deep breath and frowned some.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Wat do wese do now?"  
  
He bit his own lip and turned to the water which we had ignored for such a long time. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He walked back over to the dock and sat back down in the place I had found him in when I first went looking for him. He motioned for me to join him so I resumed my position on the dock as well.  
  
"I'se suppose I'se better make peace wit me boys tomorrow. Probably won' 'ave ta tell anyone else, by mornin everyone in New York 'ill know," He ran a hand through his hair.  
  
I looked down at my hands that were curled and fidgeting in my lap. "So youse really are leavin?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
I didn't say anything more, just kept my eyes lowered watching my hands and let the silence and unanswered questions between us hang in the air. Jack was leaving and there was nothing I could do about it. You can't keep a dreamer in a place he doesn't like I suppose, but you wouldn't even be able to comprehend how much I wanted too. It'll be awkward in Manhattan after he leaves, especially for whoever is the new leader. They've got a lot to live up too.  
  
"It's late. Yer newsies are probably wonderin where youse are," Jack stopped the silence. Glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.  
  
"Yeah, I'se should leave. . . I'se jist don' want too," I sighed and stood up and he's at my side faster then I imagined.  
  
"I'll miss ya Spot," He said looking down at me and speaking softly, almost like he doesn't want me to hear him.  
  
"Youse ain't leavin tonight are ya?" I asked, chuckling bitterly to myself more than him.  
  
"No."  
  
"Then save it."  
  
He scowled but nodded and didn't extend the issue. I hadn't meant to come off as angry, bitter or sarcastic but like I've said earlier, I'm selfish and I don't want Jack leaving me. Especially not now. Not after everything that's happened tonight.  
  
"See ya Brooklyn," He called to me and moved in the direction of the lodging house.  
  
"Back at 'cha Cowboy," I muttered and watched his back as he left where we had been standing. I sighed deeply to myself and turned in the direction on my own territory.  
  
And that night I just laid in my bunk staring at the shadows that crossed and twisted on the ceiling above me. I thought through the actions and things that had happened earlier that night and smiled. A sad smile. But a smile none the less.  
  
A/N: It's finally updated! (wipes sweat off forehead) I kept starting and restarting. . . but this chapter is finally done. The story is NOT finished. I repeat the story is NOT finished. So continue reading and reviewing please.  
  
Special Thanks:  
  
anUNDERCOVERnewsie  
  
SpotLover421  
  
Raven46 (glad you enjoyed the candy!)  
  
Syd  
  
TheCrazyUnknown  
  
Okay last time I gave you all candy and that resulted in many crazy sugar rushes so this time I'll just give a hundred dollars. (Don't you wish it was real!) 


	7. Alternate POV's

Jack's POV  
  
This is hands down the worst day of my life.  
  
And I'm only seventeen.  
  
I'm sitting on my soon-to-be old bed and thinking about the years I've been living here. Breathing here. And in a strange sense, dying here. Manhattan will always be my real home but I just can't stay here. So I'm doing something that basically is ripping my heart out of my chest. I'm leaving my whole life behind in this very lodging house. All my friends, my memories. . It's kind of a lonely thought.  
  
After two long days of ignoring my and an even longer day of the whole of us screaming at each other until our throats couldn't take anymore, my newsies have forgiven me. In fact, their going to meet me down at the train station before I leave. To say goodbye. Like they're my family sending my off to some strange place by myself.  
  
I guess, if I think about it, they are my family. Or, at least, the closest thing to a family I'll ever have. Unless I meet some girl down in Santa Fe and such. But I don't know about that either and I have one person to thank for all that.  
  
Spot Conlon.  
  
He's been haunting me ever since that night I told everyone I was leaving. At first I thought it was just for that night. An accident. Getting caught up in the moment or something like that. But now I know it wasn't any of those. And besides he told me he loved me - and I know him well enough to know when's lying.  
  
He wasn't that night.  
  
But I sure as have been lying to myself since then about what happened between us. And to make matter's worse, Spot has pretty much fell off the face of the earth when it comes to me. Nobody in Brooklyn will tell me where he is and when I sent Race out on the mission to find him, he came up empty handed as well. It's gotten to the point where I think he's avoiding me.  
  
Okay, no shit he's avoiding me. What my real concern is WHY is he avoiding me?  
  
I haven't been able to sleep at all the last couple nights because of this bothering me so bad. That and the fact that if, by miracle, I DO get to sleep then the only thing I dream about are those kisses. Only (as you can probably imagine) in my dreams we end up doing a whole lot more than kissing. Not that there bad dreams or anything, but when I wake up I'm always sweating something fierce and panting real hard, like I just finished running a couple miles. I was always worried when a dream like that occurred because Race told me once that I talked in my sleep sometimes. And who the hell knew what I could possible say (or more accurately, moan) during a dream that intense? Thankfully though, nothing like that ever happened and my secret is still my own.  
  
And Spot's of course.  
  
* * *  
  
Spot's POV  
  
I just can't bring myself to face him. I can't.  
  
And he's leaving today. He's leaving me and everyone else behind. To start a new life in Santa Fe. Santa Fe. I don't even know where the hell that place is! Except that it's somewhere in the west, which is far away. And yet even knowing all this, knowing he's leaving and more than likely never coming back, I can't bring myself to go to the station where everyone's going to be, to say goodbye. If I see him there I might do something I'd regret.  
  
So here I sit on my bunk in the lodging house, stubbornly not daring to move and in the back of my mind thinking about the fact that three hours Jack Kelly, my rope to reality in this god forsaken city, is going to be gone. Gone, but not really. And maybe that's what's really terrible about this whole thing.  
  
Jack won't be here. But in more ways than one, he will be. Every time I go over to Manhattan I'll think about him. Every time a new young newsie talks about the famous strike I'll think about him. And the same about Medda's and Tibby's. I'll be sitting in there and at any moment I'll expect him to come waltzing through the doors with that little smirk and that glint in his dark eyes. It'll be like the whole city is one big ghost that I won't be able to ignore. All I can do is pray that it doesn't make me go insane someday.  
  
He's been looking for me. My boys have told me that he came around a few times and that even Race did once, but I made them not tell Jack anything. I didn't want to see him, at least not knowing that in four days I never would again. I didn't need that shoved in my face every time I saw him. It's hard enough to deal with now.  
  
"Hey ya Spot. Long time, no see," Someone said behind me. I knew that voice and I let myself harden before facing him.  
  
"Race."  
  
Racetrack Higgins walked over to me, a cigar in his mouth and a question in his eyes. I wondered how he got up here, but knowing Race, I probably didn't need to think to hard or want to know.  
  
"What 'cha doin up 'ere?" He asked.  
  
"I could ask you da same t'ing Higgins," I said bitterly. He cocked his head to the side but didn't comment right away.  
  
"I walked. Needed ta tawk to ya."  
  
"About what?"  
  
"Jack."  
  
I froze. I didn't mean too, but I did for a few moments but quickly went back to my indifferent demeanor. I wasn't sure if he noticed, as he just stared at me blankly. Damn his poker face.  
  
"What about Jacky-boy?"  
  
"Well, 'e's leavin today. An I t'ought dat maybe I'se should tell ya dat wese were all going to da station to see 'im off," He explained shrugging.  
  
"What's it mattah ta me?" I asked him, narrowing my eyes. Of course it mattered to me more than I could probably even admit to myself, but there was no need for Race to know that.  
  
He paced a little while before approaching me some and stopping about a foot and a half away. "Well, I'se don' know much bout dis sort a thing, but I'se always t'ought dat people said goodbye to da person dey loved."  
  
Needless to say I didn't stop myself from letting a small gasp flow through my gaping lips. Race seemed indifferent as he took a drag from his cigarette and he just brought his eyes lazily to my face. I wasn't sure what to say or do, so I just stared and didn't move. I don't think my legs would've been able to move very well anyway.  
  
"W- What are youse tawking about?" I asked as best I could without stumbling to badly over my voice and words. Race shook his head and sighed like I was a child.  
  
"Listen Conlon, ever uddah newsie in New York may be blind when it comes ta you, but I ain't. I'se know ya love Jack, ta me it's obvious. Yer always lookin at 'im differently den ya look at everyone else. An Jack's da only guy youse respect in da whole city. Da only reason ya joined da strike was ta get closer wit Jack. I'se knows it and youse knows it."  
  
I was dumb founded. That was the only word I could think to describe the feeling I was having. I honestly thought I was hiding it well, I never would've dreamed that someone knew. And what surprised me was that Race didn't tell anyone or confront me about it earlier. He's not exactly the quiet type.  
  
"Ya know," He continued when I stayed quiet. "He loves you too. Even if 'e don' know it yet. Now, I'se don' know what 'appened when youse went ta tawk ta him da other day, but whatevah 'appened it's done somet'ing to 'im. Da other night I'se heard 'im tawking in his sleep. Well, moaning actually, but in da middle of all dat he did say yer name. I'se pretended I'se was asleep, but I heard 'im loud an clear."  
  
I nodded, my vocal chords still couldn't work, he was giving me far too much shocking information in one small time frame. Just as I got used to one idea, he'd spew off another one that would shock me into silence. I'll have to give Race more credit for being a lot more observant then I thought he was. Especially if he knows all this. And I like him more now, I can trust him now to shut his mouth about some stuff.  
  
"I. . . He. . . god, I'se confused," I finally managed to draw out and rubbed my eyes slowly as if to confirm that this was in fact not a dream but really happening to me.  
  
"Jist come down to da station in anudder hour to say goodbye. I t'ink you owe 'im dat much fer hiding from 'im fer da last four days." He said logically.  
  
"But what if -  
  
"Spot, I'm right. I'se know I am. Trust me on dis one. Jist say goodbye. You'll 'ate yerself fer ever if ya don'. An youse know it," He said cutting me off in the middle of my weak protest.  
  
"Fine."  
  
" 'Atta boy. I'se 'ill see ya in a little while den Spotty," He replied with a wink and a smile. He left then and it was only me with my thoughts once again.  
  
This is hands down the hardest day of my life.  
  
And I'm only seventeen.  
  
A/N: Done! (grins happily) Special thanks to the following:  
  
Sleet: I'm happy you gave the story a try and thank you for all the lovely compliments!!  
  
Sparky Conlon: Thank you with a cherry on top! Yeah, last chapter I was going for the kind of suspenseful thing.  
  
Psycho Monkey: Thank you again for the review! And I hope everything goes good for you! (wink, wink)  
  
TheCrazyUnknown: I updated again!!! And yes I know how close Ohio is to New York, I'm from Michigan myself, so. . . thanks again.  
  
Raven46: You are insane! (You remind me of my friends and I in that aspect) And your so generous! Btw, to Jack and Spot, sorry about making her flip out on you guys. My deepest apologizes.  
  
Nakaia Aidan-Sun: Yeah, can be a prick, but what 'cha going do? LoL. Anyway, thanks for the review!  
  
anUNDERCOVERnewsie: Sorry, but no can do for the triple kiss, but hell yeah a girl can dream!!! Thanks again!! 


	8. Race's POV

Race's POV  
  
They have to be the most ridiculous two people in the world when it comes to each other. I mean, from the first time I saw them together I knew something was going to happen eventually. Extremely too obvious, even for someone like me. Of course, since I'm the only person who knows, I guess everyone else is far too wrapped up in their own lives to see it or understand it. Well, actually I think David suspects too, but then again, he IS the smart one.  
  
When I first met Spot I was with Jack and strangely enough he hadn't met him yet either. We'd both heard stories of this fearless Brooklyn leader but hadn't actually seen him. And when we finally saw him it was by complete accident, you see were both wasted. I'm not even sure if we knew where we were going at that point.  
  
But anyway, we got to Brooklyn all laughing at everything we said and just kind of stumbled into a group of Spot's older, more experienced and less forgiving newsies. Thankfully, Spot broke them up before anything too big could happen. The scene that followed is one that is sorched in my mind - and probably always will be.  
  
* FLASHBACK *  
  
"Clear da way, clear da way," Spot said charging through the boys like a bull to where I was and Jack was barely standing. He'' had a lot more to drink than me.  
  
"An who are you?" Spot glanced at me then at Jack who was leaning over, hands on his knees trying to steady himself. You couldn't even see his face because his hair was hanging down shielding it from view. Jack wasn't making any attempt to talk, so I figured I'd have too.  
  
"Well," I cleared my throat before launching into a slightly slurred introduction. "Me name's Racetrack Higgins an dis 'ere is Jack Kelly. We're not quite ourselves today."  
  
Spot knew who Jack was obviously (I suppose leaders know other leaders) because he raised an eyebrow and turned to Jack, who was still bent over. Which kind of worried me.  
  
"'Ay Jack, youse alright?" I asked looking down at him. He responded by nodding weakly and slowly standing up straight and looking Spot right in the eye. Something Jack is very good at. Drunk or not.  
  
"Now dat youse know us, how bout you tell us yer name?" Jack said in the least shaky voice he could muster.  
  
"Spot Conlon."  
  
Myself, I choked on the very air I was breathing and just stared. Jack, however, was always the more straight forward one. He looked mildly shocked first, but his expression quickly went back to normal.  
  
"Huh. Dat's great. Jist great I'se heard too much an ain't seen nuthin. Pleasure ta meet ya," Jack answered extending a hand which Spot took after only a moments hesitation. Then as if to make a gesture of respect 9or it could have just been the booze) he bowed down to the shorter boy and that was his mistake.  
  
I'm not sure exactly what happened to get them in their next positions, (again, I blame the booze) but all of a sudden Jack and Spot were sprawled down on the ground, with Jack on top of Spot. It was a sight to see. Jack was laughing and Spot was making no attempt to get out of the situation.  
  
"Ya know," Jack said next, abruptly stopping his laughter and letting his eyes roam over Spot's face. "I'se do believe you are as pretty as any goil I'se ever seen."  
  
I could've hit him for saying that. But soon enough he was laughing hysterically again and rolled himself off Spot, helping hisself to his feet - which still weren't all that stable.  
  
It was the look on Spot's face that caught and kept my attention. He wasn't disgusted or furious like I figured he would be. (Especially after that girl comment. Testosterone is strange about things like that) No, he looked like he was in some kind of dazed shock with this curious look in his eyes. But whatever he was thinking about, he definitely wasn't turned off by all the things that Jack had said and done. Not that Jack or anyone else but me noticed that.  
  
I decided then and there something was going to happen. Sometime. Someday. But by the way Jack was walking I saw we needed to get back to Manhattan. So we left Spot and his boys standing there, watching us closely. And the next morning Cowboy didn't remember a thing. Or, at least none of the details and I never told him.  
  
* END FLASHBACK *  
  
And here they were, two and a half years later and still blind to each other. To me it was very frustrating because it's not like I could just voice my opinion on the situation randomly.  
  
So I guess that's why when Jack announced his leaving to Santa Fe, the first person I looked for was Spot. Not that I really had to pick him out of the crowd. He was sitting across from me at the poker table with his back facing Jack.  
  
At that moment, Spot looked absolutely nothing like the image he's built for himself. Instead of coldness and intimidation, he looked every bit like a broken child who just heard someone they loved was leaving them. The one thing I gotta give him credit for is he didn't break down and cry. Although he looked damn close to tears. Almost broke my own hear to see how much Jack was hurting him just by saying he was going. And made me angry too because Jack didn't know he was breaking Spot's heart.  
  
Of course, I knew something happened that night after Spot said he would go and talk to him for a little while. Especially when Jack comes waltzing in hours later, flushed and in a deep thoughtful daze that he had a tendency to do sometimes. He didn't even try talking to us again, just went straight to bed.  
  
When I found out Spot was avoiding Jack, I was almost to the point of pulling out my own hair in frustration. Personally, I was ready to just kidnap them both and lock them in a room together. Between Spot's "mysterious" disappearing act and Jack's moaning at night, I was just past the point of sick and tired. So I decided to confront one of them. And since Jack has to get ready to leave today, I picked MIA Spot.  
  
He was, to say it nicely, shocked that I knew he loved Jack. But I think (hopefully) that I got through to him. And I think he'll show up to say goodbye to him. Because I know if he doesn't he'll regret it for the rest of his life. In fact, if they get all clingy and such, I just might buy Spot a one way ticket to join Jack. (I doubt it though. Spot would never do anything like that. He's got way to much pride to allow himself to do that.)  
  
I just hope he'll show. Speaking of showing, I've got to get something from the lodging house then head down to the station since his train's leaving in an hour and a half. It would be pretty hypocritical of me if I demanded Spot come and then I get their late myself.  
  
All this better turn out too, because damnit, someone needs a happy ending.  
  
A/N: I wrote it last night, so I've got to post it now! And I'm almost done with this story, only two more chapters left, Jack's POV and then Spot's POV. So, la de da. I'm being lazy today so, thanks to everyone who reviewed you are all lovely. (gives more chocolate and such to make up for her laziness) 


	9. Jack's POV

A/N: One more chapter after this one to go! I can't believe it! I'm almost proud of myself! And I've decided that I'm going to write a sequel to this story, so next chapter I'll fill you in on that. So keep your eyes peeled for that if you liked this story!!!  
  
Special Thanks to the following:  
  
Spider Chick  
  
TheCrazyUnknown  
  
anUNDERCOVERnewsie  
  
Raven  
  
Jack's POV  
  
I've been to the train station before, but never before has it held so much, I don't know, power I guess. It's meaningfulness has never been displayed to me before. It's like a rush of emotions hitting you all at once which such force you have to catch yourself or you'll fall.  
  
All around me people are hugging each other, saying their good-byes and crying. One particular scene that caught my eye was of a family over by the edge of the platform. The father, who was obviously the one leaving, is holding his son (who can't be much more than seven) and hugging his teenage daughter while the mother stands off to the side slightly crying like everyone else. I was so engrossed in the family's touching goodbye that I didn't even notice Race had sat down beside me until he cleared his throat.  
  
"What 'cha thinkin about Jack?" He asked once he knew he had my attention. I shrugged.  
  
"Different things. Why ya 'ere so early?" I countered with a question of my own, glancing over at him.  
  
"It ain't so early. Besides, I sold all my papes," He said, then lit up a cigarette. "I found Spot." He continued casually.  
  
I stiffened, not caring if he noticed or not and shifted uncomfortably on the wooden bench.  
  
"Oh yeah? Where was 'e?" I asked trying to sound nonchalant about it.  
  
"Brooklyn. At da lodging house."  
  
I licked my lips trying to think about how I wanted to word what I wanted to say next. It got me so frustrated that I ran a hand through my hair nervously.  
  
"Listen Race, can you do me a favor?" I began.  
  
"Sure Jack, what is it?"  
  
"When I'm gone and already on my way to Santa Fe, could you tell Spot goodbye for me? And that I'll miss him?" I asked. Race took a puff of his cigarette and eyed me closely. I almost felt like he was picking me apart with his eyes.  
  
"Is dat all youse wants me ta tell 'im?" He asked slowly, not quite looking me in the eye.  
  
Was that all? What else was their to say? Tell Race to tell him that I love him? Oh, yeah, that would go over real well. And besides, I don't even know how I feel about Spot yet. I'm too confused. Everything's all jumbled up and such in my brain. The night of the announcement, memories from before even then. Stuff I still have to work out. Just little snippets of scenes from the last two years. Words said and things done.  
  
"How do I know you got what it takes to win?"  
  
"Cause I'm telling ya Spot."  
  
"That ain't good enough Jacky-boy. You gotta show me."  
  
So what else did I want Race to tell Spot for me? Only one thought came to my mind once I was able to cut off from my other suffocating memories.  
  
"Just tell him I. . . Tell him I'm sorry."  
  
Race's whole face softened and it almost looked like pity was shining through those gambler eyes of his. Either that or understanding. But how could Racetrack Higgins understand or know what I was going through? He couldn't possibly.  
  
"Sure thing Cowboy," He said finally in a soft voice.  
  
Before I could say anything else, the rest of the guys started showing up, starting with Mush and Blink and ending with the Jacobs family, minus the parents. I hadn't figured Sarah would be here, but oh well.  
  
We talked briefly, laughing some and making jokes about who would be the next leader and such. It had a calming effect on my nerves that I needed then. We even had Skittery laughing which was saying a whole lot if you knew Skittery like we knew him.  
  
When we lasped into a silence (which was impossible to avoid at some time) everyone turned to just look at me. As if. . . well I don't know but there had to be some kind of reason. I glanced at the large clock to the right of me resting so high it was almost on the ceiling of the station. I only had less than an hour before I was going to go and I decided I needed to start the good-byes than. I had been postponing them as long as I could.  
  
Most of the guys just shook my hand and smiled a sad smile when I went through the crowd. Mush, who was always one of the more sweet and innocent guys, gave me a big hug that almost crushed me. (He's far to strong to be hugging people like that) Les attached himself to my waist begging me not to go, David had to get him off of me and surprisingly that kid has got one strong grip. David hugged me too, only not as bone crushingly hard as Mush had.  
  
Sarah, who was crying, did however hug me as hard as Mush. And she kissed me too. And that right there sank me, the minute she kissed me I knew I wasn't for her and maybe not any girls ever again. I just didn't feel what I knew I could feel. But like a good boy I kissed her back and returned the embrace as well.  
  
Race was last. We smiled at each other and shook hands. (He wasn't one for tons of physical contact, at least with other guys) I've got a pretty good feeling that he'll be leader after I'm gone. He's got all the qualities and the guys love him. And that was just fine and dandy with me, I think he'll make a great leader. After I let go of his hand I went over to the bench and picked up my bag filled with what little I had.  
  
"Youse ain't gonna get on dat train yet are ya Jacky-boy?"  
  
I stopped dead in the middle of what I was doing. And I dropped my bag. Behind me the guys were starting to whisper and I had trouble just thinking about how Spot would know when my train was leaving enough to know when to show up before it was gone. When I turned around I was greeted with Race's smirking face first and suddenly I knew. Maybe that kid knew more than I gave him credit for.  
  
"Hi ya Spot. What 'cha doin 'ere?" I asked taking in the sight of him. He was wearing that blue shirt he wore in court back during the strike and he looked really clean, like he actually cared what he looked like before he came here. I didn't even see his cane, or his hat for that matter.  
  
"Jist t'ought I'd bettah come down 'ere and say goodbye to ya's," He answered shrugging as if it was nothing, although I could read his eyes and knew better than to believe his acting performance.  
  
"Right, right," I replied and took a few steps closer to him, so that we were now less than a foot away from each other. I thought of something to do and spit in my hand to offer him one last leader shake. He, however, did not complete the motion.  
  
He looked first at my hand, than at Race. (Who out of the corner of my eye I could see nod his head as if approving something) Then he looked back at me. The next thing I know I'm the other half of yet another hug, only this one was totally unexpected. All I knew was his arms were around my neck and his head was head was buried in my shoulder.  
  
Yeah, it scared the shit out of me too.  
  
I hugged him back awkwardly before he released me again. In the background I could hear the whispers getting a little louder but as far as I'm concerned there was me. And Spot. No one else matter. (And I honestly don't care if that sounded cheesy or not)  
  
"Ya don't 'ave ta leave Jack," He mumbled but I could still hear the pleading edge in his voice. And just like that night he couldn't look me in the eyes.  
  
"Yea I do," I answered.  
  
"But. . . Jack you can't leave. I need ya to much," He said in a so soft a voice even I had to strain to hear him and I was barely six inches from him.  
  
I wanted to give him something. Anything just so he have some kind of piece of me, to remember me and such. Carefully, I raised my precious cowboy hat over my head and held it out to him. When he saw what I was doing his eyes went all big and he shook his head in protest.  
  
"Jist take it."  
  
"But I can't take dat Jack!"  
  
"Yes you can. And you will. Besides, I can buy a dozen hats once I'm in the real west," I countered and thrust the hat into his hands. He looked down at it and clutched it to his body as if it were some kind of precious jewel.  
  
"I ain't got nuthin to give ya," He whispered, his eyes still on the hat. I shook my head and leaned in a little.  
  
"Sure ya do. An I'se already gots it. Ya jist won't feel it's gone until I've left," I murmured. I was getting kind of frustrated that he wasn't looking at me at all, so I lifted his chin so he would be forced too. And I saw why the ground had been so interesting to him. His blue eyes were glistening with not quite shed tears.  
  
Watching him then, I remembered all the people that were probably looking at us in open curiosity but I could've cared a less. That's how far gone I was. I leaned down and kissed his lips softly. Not like the soul searing kiss from four nights earlier, that one had been full of desire and lust. This one was gentle and sweet. The kind of kiss you give to the person you love.  
  
And I did.  
  
Love him I mean. Looking at him and watching him I realized it. I loved him almost so much it hurt. It was exactly how people describe it too. All those stupid cliches, their all true. Of course it's just my luck that I finally realize I'm in love with a guy I've known for two years the day I'm leaving.  
  
When I broke the kiss, his eyes were closed and tears were now falling freely down his cheeks. When he opened his eyes again he threw his arms around me for one last time.  
  
"I love you," He whispered quietly in my ear so only I could hear him.  
  
"I love you too Spot," I answered just as quietly, squeezing him tighter to me just before letting go. We smiled at each other, sad smiles, before I broke away totally and went back to my abandoned bag.  
  
I looked back at my other newsies, all of which were looked absolutely shocked by the scene that had just taken place. I smiled to myself upon seeing their faces, and I hoped none of them had any real problems with all that, I didn't want Spot to get threatened and such once I was gone. Even Race looked mildly surprised, I don't think he expected me to do everything I did.  
  
I didn't think they would mind much though, especially Mush and Blink. I think they're in denial too, but hey what do I know? I was in denial for close to two years. Besides, Race can always calm the boys down, seeming as he obviously doesn't have a problem with it.  
  
"Good luck Jack," Snitch called from beside Skittery. He smiled at me when I sought him out in the crowd. And soon the rest of the guys were wishing me luck and yelling out their final goodbyes.  
  
"You'll come back some time ta visit right?" Race called out, making sure I heard him. Turning, he gestured with his eyes to Spot, letting me now the question was purely for his sake.  
  
"I promise," I called back and smile widely.  
  
And I meant it. I never break a promise.  
  
And with that I started walking over to the train where other people were beginning to board. I didn't dare look back, if I did I might betray myself and end up staying there.  
  
I got a window seat and then looked at them, they were waving sadly and I returned the gesture. Winking at them as well.  
  
Spot still had my hat in a death grip and was staring straight at me. I smiled at him to let him now I meant to keep good on that promise and that I meant everything I said to him earlier. He smiled back, a bright Spot Conlon smile that I rarely get to see and loved so much. He waved too and that was how I last saw him as the train lurched to life and took off in the direction of the west.  
  
Away from Manhattan and Brooklyn and New York altogether.  
  
And I couldn't help but feel as if I had left something besides my hat back there with Spot. 


	10. Spot's POV

Disclaimer: The lyrics used in this story are from the song "Against All Odds" by Phil Collins. I do not own the song, lyrics, music or anything to the matter. I simply am a fan of Collin's music and thought the song worked well with the story. I am gaining no money for the usage and don't plan on ever owning the song. So la-de-da.  
  
Spot's POV  
  
How can I just let you walk away,  
  
Just let you leave without a trace?  
  
When I stand here, taking every breath with you.  
  
You're the only one who really knew me at all. . .  
* * *  
  
I could feel the others staring at me after the train left our line of vision. Their eyes were burning my skin and boring holes through my body, but honestly, I didn't give a damn. Jack was gone and even in the huge crowd of Manhattan newsies I felt utterly alone. And I can't even begin to explain how much I hate that feeling.  
  
"Hey Spot, come back ta da lodgin house wit us fer a little while. We could get good an' drunk or somethin equally as numbing," Race suggested breaking the clogged silence from my side.  
  
I turned to look at the others to try and judge how they felt about the situation. All of them looked sympathetic and not one looked disgusted. Huh. I'll have to give them more credit for being more open minded than I thought they would be. Although, I suppose, some of them are probably guilty of the same "crime" as me. Mush and Blink seem to come to mind rather fast. . .  
  
I smiled gratefully at Race who smiled a little back before finishing off his cigarette. I glanced back at the sea of people and finally saw the furious expression I had looked for earlier. Of course it was Sarah, who was openly glaring at me. I should've suspected, I mean, her boyfriend kisses ME and tells ME he loves ME. I didn't exactly expect open arms and smiles from her. But the look on Les's face. . . that I didn't like. He was staring at me as if I had ruined his whole life or massacred his family or something. I knew he idolized Jack, I just didn't know how much.  
  
Beside the both of them David stood throwing me a look of encouragement and apology. That eased me up a bit, as I knew David would probably have a talk with both of his siblings.  
  
I followed Race and the newsies in silence, keeping Jack's black hat tight against my chest at all times. Afraid of what would happen if I dared to let it go. It kind of amazed me that he decided to give it too me. I never saw him without that hat, never. I think he gave it to me so I wouldn't forget him or something. Ha. Like I'll ever be able to forget him. I'd have to die first.  
  
When we got back to the lodging house, no one talked. It was pretty much quiet for a long time. Everyone had questions, or comments, I could tell. They were swimming just beneath they're eyes. I didn't care if they asked them or not. I could deal with both. Even knowing how tired I suddenly was.  
  
"Um, Spot?" Mush started quietly, his voice surprising me but I didn't let him know that. I just nodded in his direction to show I was listening.  
  
"I don't mean to, uh, be nosy or anyt'ing, but, uh, I'se was wonderin how long youse and Jack. . . well you know," He trailed off, suddenly finding his hands quite interesting and his face reddened considerably.  
  
"Four days."  
  
"Four - ya mean right after 'e made da announcement?" Specs asked, furrowing his eyebrows.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Well, at least dat explains all da moanin I heard dat night," Bumlets said, scratching his head.  
  
"Youse heard dat too? Huh. I t'ought I'se was da only one," Itey agreed.  
  
Standing beside me, Race was barely containing his laughter. I guess he wasn't joking about Jack's dreaming after all. Made me glad I don't talk in my sleep, or else some nights I would've been screaming.  
  
"So you guys never. . .?" Blink let the end of his question hang in the air, left unsaid.  
  
"Never what? Had sex?" I asked innocently. He blushed furiously, but managed to nod.  
  
"No, we didn't."  
  
"But you DO love him right?" Snitch asked from across the room. Everyone fell silent, awaiting my answer.  
  
"Yeah. I love him," I replied honestly.  
  
Again the room lapsed into an unsettling quiet. This time it was Swifty that broke silence with a question of his own.  
  
"How long have ya loved 'im?"  
  
How long? Hmmm. . . when did I realize it for the first time? Hmm. . .  
  
"A little over a year and three months," I answered after thinking about it for a few seconds.  
  
"Dat long an youse never told 'im? How did ya manage ta do dat?" Skittery asked from beside Snitch.  
  
"Very carefully."  
  
They laughed at this and some of the tension was lifted from the room, even I managed to crack a smile. When the laughing ended, they mumbled about having to sell tomorrow and needing some sleep so they broke up to go to their bunks.  
  
"Sorry I couldn't get 'cha any booze," Race stated turning to me.  
  
"I don't need a drink."  
  
"Well I do."  
  
I smiled. Race always had a way to get you to laugh and smile, especially when you didn't want too. I stood up then to leave for Brooklyn. Race, however, wouldn't let me leave.  
  
"Why don' 'cha stay fer da night Spot?" He whispered seeing as everyone around us was trying to sleep.  
  
"An where do ya suggest I'se sleep exactly?" I asked scowling.  
  
His eyes darted to one of the two empty beds in the room. (One of them was obviously Race's) He didn't have to tell me whose it was, I already knew all too well. Whenever I had stayed over before he always gave up his bed for me to sleep in. While he kicked Snipeshooter out of his. I used to love sleeping their and sometimes made up excuses not to go back to Brooklyn. But how could I sleep there now?  
  
"Race, I -  
  
"It probably still smells like him ya know. An ya could take da pillow home wit 'cha tomorrow if ya want," He said cutting me off.  
  
That was all the incentive I needed to stay. Race was right too, it did smell like him, fresh and slightly dusty. Intoxicating as any drink if you ask me. The smell calmed me and eventually lulled me to sleep. A night filled with dreams too. Dreams that made me VERY happy I didn't talk in my sleep.  
  
* * *  
  
How can you just walk away from me,  
  
When all I can do is watch you leave?  
  
Cause we shared the laughter and the pain,  
  
And even shared the tears.  
  
You're the only one who really knew me at all. . .  
  
* * *  
  
I woke up early enough to be able to make it back to Brooklyn before I had to be out selling my papers. The boys were just getting up when I came in into the bunkhouse with my hands full. (Besides Jack's hat, I took the pillow like Race suggested. Yeah, I know, I'm pathetic) They eyed me strangely, no doubt wondering where I was during the night before.  
  
"Hey boss, where was you last night?" One of my more cheerful newsies, Roller, asked me. A wide too bright grin on his face. I almost groaned at him. My heart's broken and he's smiling like it's the second coming of Jesus.  
  
I swear.  
  
"Manhattan," I replied not looking at him any longer and walked over to my unkempt bunk. I put Jack's pillow down and set his hat on top of that.  
  
"Oh, dat's right. The Cowboy left yesterday. Some say it's because 'e couldn't hack it," Rage, one of the best fighter in the whole house and appropriately named for his temper, added gaining some laughs while he smirked through all of it.  
  
It's kind of ironic I guess. I'm in love with Jack and my boys hate him with a passion. Some were jealous of him, still others didn't like that fame he received (as well as power) after the strike. Some I wasn't sure why hated him so. And I never asked. But what Rage said pissed me off. I was sick of their cutting him down every chance they got. And it would become especially bad since Jack wasn't here to defend himself.  
  
"Watch yerself Rage. I'se ain't gonna put up wit nobody's puttin Jack down. Youse got dat?" I growled, glaring daggers at him from my place on my bunk. He drew back like he'd been punched and frowned in shame.  
  
"I'se got it Spot," He muttered.  
  
"Dat's good. You remember it too," I said still angry and frowning.  
  
The room fell quiet from my outburst and I turned my attentions back to Jack's hat and pillow. I took my old pillow and threw it carelessly onto the bunk closest to mine. I left the hat on the pillow where it was though.  
  
"Is dat Kelly's hat?" Blue, a newsie with honest to god dark blue hair, asked me, his eyes widening when he noticed the garment I was fiddling with.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"You steal it from 'im?" Rage asked eyeing it suspiciously. I guess he was shocked that Jack would part with his trademark hat. That and I don't think he like the idea of me having something on Jack's. For some reason he was the one who hated him the most of all my boys.  
  
"No, 'e gave it to me."  
  
They raised their eyes and I could just see the questions forming in their confused minds. I didn't, and wasn't going to answer any like I did last night. I was too tired, too hungry and too heartbroken to deal with them at the moment.  
  
"We'll tawk later. Right now, wese gots papes ta sell."  
  
With the main objective back in their minds, they quickly forgot all about Jack and everything else. Which was more than fine with me. I prefer to me sad in alone. My misery doesn't seem to like company too well. And this time was no different.  
  
After the left me still in the bunk house, I sighed and trudged over to the door slowly. I glanced back at the hat on my new pillow and got an idea and brought a smile to my face. Walking back to the bunk I picked up the black hat and slung it around my neck the way Jack used to do. It was like my own little sign of respect (and love) for the now missing Manhattan leader.  
  
Somehow I made it through the rest of the day. Until I passed by Irving Hall and heard Medda singing inside like she always was.  
  
I ran the rest of the way to the lodging house.  
  
* * *  
  
So take a look at me now,  
  
Cause there's just empty space.  
  
There's nothing left here to remind me,  
  
Just the memory of your face.  
  
So take a look at me now,  
  
There's just an empty space.  
  
And you coming back to me is against the odds,  
  
And that's what I've gotta face.  
  
* * *  
  
The first time I saw him he was drunk. And laughing like a madman. Knowing that, you would think he had made a terrible first impression on me. Thinking that you would be wrong. He interested me, because despite his drunkenness he was still trying to maintain some of his leader qualities. Race was with him, but I ignored him for the most part. Instead I remember Jack being very mildly shocked to find who I was and thrusting his hand in my face waiting for me to shake it.  
  
It was what happened next that kept me interested and intrigued with him. I'm not sure what he tripped on, or if his knees just gave out on him, but all of sudden I'm on my back and he's on top of me, laughing again. He's not light either and him being drunk prevented him from not resting all his weight on my smaller body.  
  
'Ya know, I'se do believe you are as pretty as any goil I'se ever seen.'  
  
That line didn't disgust me as it should have, instead I felt my face heat up and thankfully he rolled off of me than. They left shortly after that and I watched them until they had disappeared. And I hoped I would get to see him again soon - and this time when he was sober.  
  
The moment I knew I loved him was pretty shocking for me. Not because I wasn't expecting it, but probably because I realized I'd loved him for longer and had just been hiding the emotions under close friendship. Shielding myself from the reality I lived in day in and day out. It was definitely an eye opening experience.  
  
We were in Medda's that night, and everyone was there. (Meaning all the Brooklyn and Manhattan newsies) I didn't particularly want to stay the whole night, but I figured I had too. Jack couldn't control all of my boys and Sevens, Brooklyn's answer to Race, almost always accused one of the Manhattan boys of cheating him blind if he didn't win. In his mind the only one who could beat him was Race. And we just let him live in his little fantasies.  
  
Anyway, Jack and I were sitting in the shadows more, just kind of observing everyone around us. One thing I can say for a large crowd of drunk newsies is that they can certainly be loud. And slightly annoying. Seeing all of them act like idiots has kept me from ever getting drunk and thinking back, since that first meeting I never saw Jack drunk again. But that night we both had our respective beers by us and watching the chaos. I was frowning and Jack was smirking.  
  
"Do dey always gots ta act like idiots when dare all together?" I mumbled in agitation. Jack shook his head and looked over at me.  
  
"Aw, come on Spot, lighten up. Let 'em 'ave dare fun. Not all of dem are as friendly as youse and I are," He said, standing up from all the teenagers in the room.  
  
"Wese ain't dat friendly," I countered which enticed a sigh from the boy beside me. He turned fully to face me and pushed his beer to side some so he could look directly at me.  
  
"Listen ta yerself Conlon. I'se know youse don' like ta think of me as a friend, but youse knows I am. Youse just livin in da'nile Spot," He said peering right at me.  
  
I hate it when he gets all serious and starts glaring at people. He can be intimidating in his own way. But mostly it's because he's calm and collected. The most laid back leader I've ever met. It takes a lot to get Jack mad, so you know that if you've pissed him off you've really fucked up.  
  
"I ain't in no denial."  
  
"Yes youse are. I know you almost bettah den I knows myself. Youse can fool da world Spot, but ya can't fool me," He said in slow pronounced words.  
  
I just looked at him and he just stared back as if it wasn't hard at all to look me in the eye. Jack was always able to look me in the eye where even the other leaders couldn't. He could take a glare without flinching and dismiss my angered rants as if they were nothing. Whatever I did I couldn't intimidate him. He seemed to think that since he was a leader too he should've be afraid of me. I respected him for that. Even as much as I love fear and intimidation I was always waiting for someone to stand up to me. Jack did it with ease and he's the only one.  
  
It was that night that I actually found out. It was the night I had my first dream and it was probably the most intense one I've ever had. I didn't remember much about the dream really, just some little things. You know, lips, hands, sweat, slow and soft moans, but it was enough to send a rush through my body. And I realized it then that I loved him. It was like having a tornado run rapid through your chest and then leave suddenly, leaving only that overtaking feeling to show that it had indeed been there. As a reminder. I couldn't back to sleep that night and I had to learn how to control myself the next time I was around Jack.  
  
The strike was hard to deal with. Mostly because I had to work so closely with Jack through the whole thing and somewhatly because my boys were cranky for having to help the Manhattan boys and actually listen to what Jack had to say.  
  
I think the rally we had was one of the hardest moments of the strike. Jack had total command of the whole room, and once more he actually sounded like he knew what he was talking about. And then he came down to stand in front of me and asked me what I thought. And he was so close. Too damn close for my nerves. I could practically taste his breath, like I said earlier, self control is a god sent.  
  
But now he's gone. And there isn't any need for all that self control I've perfected over the years. Not that I would've needed it now anyway. Because he loves me. He told me so. God, he told me and he still didn't stay. I really couldn't keep him, even though I prayed that some miracle would keep him here.  
  
Taking his hat off from around my neck I just stared at it. It was all I had, beside memories and feelings of course, left of him. And too me, I wasn't sure if that was enough. I mean, now that I knew I could have him, he leaves and I can't again. Oh, hell, I'm not even making sense to myself right now. All I know is that not just my heart, but my whole nerve and soul is breaking up. Before him I never believed in soul mates.  
  
But they're real.  
  
And just knowing mine left me is enough to make my now incomplete and battered soul start crying. Which soon gets the rest of me sobbing as well until all I can hear is my crying and all I know for sure is the fact that I'm on my bunk, lying on my stomach, my face pressed into Jack's old pillow, hugging his hat to my chest fiercely. I was pretty much oblivious to the world around me at that point.  
  
So oblivious that I didn't hear three of my boys walk in minutes later, just in time to see me crying my eyes out.  
  
And to think, all this started when all I did was pass by Medda's.  
  
* * *  
  
I wish I could just make you turn around,  
  
Turn around and see me cry.  
  
There's so much I need to say to you,  
  
So many reason's why.  
  
You're the only one who really knew me at all. . .  
  
* * *  
  
"Spot? Um, are youse, uh, what 'appened?" I heard Roller's voice invade my ears and realized that I was no longer alone with my loneliness and hurt. I also realized they had caught me crying. Which made me beyond angry. As far as they knew I couldn't even cry, but here I was blubbering like a five year old child.  
  
Furiously, I swiped at my tears instantly stopping my choked sobs from escaping my throat. I swallowed the lump in my throat and turned to face them with as much pride as I could muster. (Which wasn't all that much) Their expressions didn't help quench my fury, I hate it when people pity me and they looked exactly like they pitied me at that moment.  
  
"I'se fine," I muttered angrily. What were they doing here already anyway? I was always done selling at least an hour before everyone else. I really hadn't lost track of time that easily had I?  
  
The three newsies shifted uncomfortably in the tension filled room. All of them looking ashamed as if they were caught doing something they shouldn't when in reality it was the other way around. None of them moved or said anything and it was beginning to annoy me.  
  
"Is dare a reason youse is 'ere den?" I snapped at them which made them jump and widen their eyes. God, I'm good. Got these boys all trained like dogs or something.  
  
"Nuthin, wese was jist gonna come ask ya's if ya wanted to come wit us ta Medda's," Classic, another small newsie, asked fearfully. He stood between Roller and Rage who were both respectively looking down at the ground.  
  
I paled at the thought of going to Medda's. Look what just seeing it did to me, no way was I going in their unless. . .  
  
"I'll go, if I'se can get Race to go wit us," I said. The three shot me looks of confusion. Not that I could blame them.  
  
"Sure boss, sure. Whatever ya want, it's jist. . ." Rage trailed off, maybe deciding it would be better for his state of health to not finished his comment. I glared anyways.  
  
"What? If youse gots somethin ta say ta me, den say it," I said harshly. He cringed at my tone and cleared his throat.  
  
"It's nuthin really, it's jist, um, well, youse seem ta be hanging around da Manhattan boys a lot. We ain't got no problem wit Racetrack or nuthin, but well wese worried. Ya stayed da night last night and ya show up angry and wit Cowboy's hat and now dis. . ." He trailed off once again, not explaining the situation very well. And I was growing in my anger. What exactly was he trying to imply by all this?  
  
"Dare a point behind yer little rambles dare Rage? An if so, please do share," I replied sarcastically a sneer on my face. He licked his lips nervously and looked everywhere but my face.  
  
"Well, it's jist youse seem ta be takin Kelly's leavin a little personal an all. An, uh, wese ran inta Spinner on da street an, uh, he told us dat 'e was at da station yesterday," Rage continued. This time none of the three looked at me.  
  
Spinner was the right hand man to the Bronx's leader Dodger and he had the annoying habit of coming onto our territory to sell. And knowing that he was at the station, that made me freeze up. How much did he see and/or tell?  
  
"Yeah, so? What's it mattah ta me?" I asked slowly as to not let any emotions enter my voice. Just in case he didn't tell him. But I doubted it, Spinner had a bigger mouth then Race did when he was drunk.  
  
"An, uh, 'e said dat youse and Cowboy was awful close. An dat youse hugged 'im. An dat youse, uh, let 'im kiss you. Why'd ya let Jack kiss you?" Rage asked me boldly. Should've known someone would see Jack kiss me, but at the time I had been too swept in the moment to care a whole lot.  
  
"Because," I answered, knowing that wasn't the answer they wanted, but not willing to tell them the truth just yet. So I turned my head back to the hat which was laying peacefully beside me and idly figured it gently. Not really wanting to disturb it.  
  
"Because why? I mean, Jack can't just assume dat youse'll let 'im kiss you. I mean it ain't like he's was all dat -  
  
"I let 'im kiss me because I love 'im!" I shouted, frustrated with all the questions and the unneeded hate Rage had for Jack. I didn't even realize I had said it until I saw the facial expressions each had. And the shock in their eyes.  
  
"Youse. . . youse can' be serious," Rage said, shaking his head violently. I sighed internally. If they reacted badly to this I could just see myself becoming an honorary member of the Manhattan boys.  
  
"I'se as serious as I'se ever gonna get. Got a problem wit it?" I asked, walking up to Rage and glaring him down. He swallowed hard and let out a shaky breath.  
  
"No, I ain't got a problem wit it. Jist a little surprised is all. I mean, Jack Kelly. . ." Another glare shut him up from saying anything nasty about him.  
  
"So, uh, I guess Race knows huh?" Classic offered, while Roller still looked too stunned to speak. I nodded.  
  
"All of dem knows."  
  
The silence returned but it didn't last long as they said they're goodbyes and see ya laters making their way, still shocked as they weren't whispering to each other yet, down the stairs and back onto the streets of Brooklyn. Leaving me behind in the bunk house. It seemed as if everyone was leaving me behind. Most I was okay with.  
  
Except Jack.  
  
* * *  
  
So take a look at me now,  
  
Cause there's just an empty space.  
  
And there's nothing left here to remind me,  
  
Just the memory of your face.  
  
So take a look at me now,  
  
There's just an empty space.  
  
But to wait for you,  
  
Is all I can do,  
  
And that's what I've gotta face.  
  
Take a good look at me now,  
  
Cause I'll still be standing here.  
  
And you coming back to be is against all odds,  
  
That's the chance I've got to take.  
  
* * *  
  
It's hard.  
  
I didn't expect it not to be, but it's even harder than I figured it would be. Sure, I've got my friends, Race and the others, but I haven't got the one person I want and need. And no offense, but no one can ever make up for the loss of that one person.  
  
I have dreams still, and I wear his hat a lot, especially if I'm missing him bad enough some day. It makes me feel closer to him. Like all his secrets and the way to get him back are through that hat. Even if I know that in the back of my mind that's ridiculous. Nothing like that is going to bring him back. At least not right away.  
  
I miss him more everyday, sometimes I think I see him even I'm so far out of it. But I never show anyone what I'm thinking. Although, I'm pretty sure Race always knows. I'm beginning to believe that he's a mind reader or gypsy or something.  
  
But ya know what? I'm going to be okay. I know I will. Sure, it hurts like hell right now. Like I've got this huge open wound and someone's consistently pouring gallons of salt in it all the time, but it'll heal eventually. And I'll be alright.  
  
Mostly because I know he'll come back for me sometime. Someday he'll come strolling into Brooklyn with that confident walk and sexy smirk and just stand there waiting for me. I know he will.  
  
Because he promised me he would.  
  
And Jack Kelly always keeps his promises.  
  
* * *  
  
Take a look at me now. . .  
  
* * *  
  
A/N: I. Am. Done. Wow, does it ever feel good to say that. This is my first finished fan fiction, and to celebrate I'll probably go get some ice cream after I finish this little note.  
  
First of all I want to thank all my reviewers, they stuck with me through this whole story and gave me some kick ass reviews! I love you guys for it! I would dance a jig, but I don't dance so forget it. I owe you guys a lot, thank forever.  
  
Second of all, I want to tell everyone who did read this story, and like it, I AM WRITING A SEQUEL!!! The sequel will be called 'Prayers and Promises' so be on the look out for that. I'll try beginning it as soon as possible.  
  
Thirdly, well, there is no thirdly. But whatever. I'm going to get my ice cream now and when I come back I'm going to finish my "party" chapter for my other newsies fic "Second Chances Are Overrated".  
  
Thanks again and bless you all!!! (I feel loved) 


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